


The Silver Blade

by Tsilky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:46:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsilky/pseuds/Tsilky
Summary: Invisible. The ideal for every slave in service to their master. Go about your life as though you don’t exist, performing every task as though you aren’t there. Don’t call attention to yourself and maybe you’ll live long enough to be freed or simply outlive your usefulness and be finally tossed aside. That was the dream.Myra was just that. Invisible. She’d been born into this life and she’d likely die in it. Maybe that was for the best. Who knows if she could even survive in the wider galaxy?Mistakes. They were made and if you were a slave, that would be the end for you. Myra made a mistake that would change her life forever and send her down a path so dark she would scarcely recognise herself at the end. She would forge a new destiny in fire, death and blood. One that made the mistake worth it.Transforming from slave to an almost mythical Sith Assassin was not how she thought life would turn out, but that was where it led. It brought a smile to her face even as she lay in a pool of her own blood decades after, surrounded by the corpses of Jedi and Sith alike.Set in the Old Republic, beginning before the Treaty of Coruscant. Player characters are not present, and their actions don’t happen.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. The Mistake

**Throne Room, Corrus City, Corrus, Outer Rim**

**20 BTC (Before the Treaty of Coruscant)**

The Sith Lord and Jedi Master stared daggers at each other across the throne room, as far away as they could be from each other without breaking decorum with the man they were both here to see. King Corrus regarded them with a sneer from his throne, delighted at the tense energy that passed between the two men. They’d both arrived at the same time with the same goal. Get the King’s support and thus gain access to the large manufacturing plants on his planet. Corrus had been playing them off against each other for the last several hours, waiting to see who would promise the most and who would finally back down.

“Your majesty,” The red-skinned Sith tore his gaze away from the Jedi and refocused himself, “The Republic is losing this war. The Empire takes more worlds with every passing year. The Jedi cannot hope to stop us. Coruscant will not last.” He turned his corrupted yellow eyes to his antithesis, “Would you not rather be on the winning side?”

The Jedi looked serene as ever, but the Sith Lord could tell his words were getting through to his counterpart, a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Your grace, allying yourself with the Sith Empire will only lead to ruin for your planet. You can’t possibly think they will not betray you at the first available opportunity?”

The King leant forward in his throne, steepling his fingers together and breathing out heavily, seeming to be carefully considering their words, seriousness etched into his features. Suddenly, he erupted with laughter, confusing both Jedi and Sith. He turned to one of the guards that flanked his throne, “This is great, isn’t it?” He stood, sweeping his arms out to indicate the two force-users in the room, “Envoys for the two most powerful groups in the galaxy. And they come to me! Begging for my help!”

The Sith looked to the Jedi, the same bewildered expression on his face, almost glad he wasn’t the only one confused by the King’s behaviour, “Your majesty, I only-”

Corrus held up a hand, the mirth almost instantly disappearing from his face, silencing any protestations. “As long as you are here, on _my_ planet, you will do as I say, and speak when I ask you to.”

A small girl, Myra, stood near the entrance to the throne room, holding a serving tray and focusing all of her concentration on not dropping it. She drowned out the words of the three men in the room with her focus, terrified of the consequences of making a scene. In Myra’s four short years, she’d managed to avoid any major catastrophes of displeasing her master, the King. She wasn’t even sure he knew she existed.

Only in the last few months had she even begun her servitude, previously confined to her mother’s quarters within the palace. Her mother, Shuisa, stood to one side of the throne, shooting small smiles across the room to reassure her daughter all was well. She wore what she had told Myra was her ‘uniform’. It did little to hide Shuisa’s body, barely covering the tips of her breasts and the crux of her thighs, the pale skin, dark markings and white hair of a woman from Dathomir on full display. Apparently, her mother worked as a ‘concubine’ to the King, though Myra was not sure exactly what that was.

They were slaves, she knew that much. Along with every other person who worked in the palace. Her mother had taught Myra to keep her head down at all times, never speak up, act as though you weren’t there. Myra had seen what happened to slaves who were unable to do this, scenes she had nightmares about for weeks after. She could still see the blood streaks on the floor, despite all evidence being wiped away. Even with her startlingly different features, Myra was invisible. The snow-white hair and matching eyes should have drawn every eye in the room, but no one ever payed attention to the tiny slave girl, going so far as to look straight through her occasionally.

Myra was startled out of her self-imposed trance, the Sith Lord brushing past her and grabbing a cup from her tray as he strode from the room, rage etched into his face. The tray almost unbalanced, Myra regaining control of it just in time, but not before a deafening clatter of the glass and metal on top of it. She cringed at the sound, preparing herself for the inevitable punishment that came with making a mistake on Corrus.

Nothing happened. She opened one white eye, expecting to see one of the guards or King Corrus himself marching toward her. She found nothing, only the relieved expression of her mother on the far side of the room.

The Dathomirian was well aware of what happened to those who failed in their servitude to King Corrus, herself the recipient of his punishments from time to time. Her pale skin had been marred many times by large purple bruises, preventing her from servicing the King in the way he desired. After all, that was all she was in this life, an object of desire. Shuisa had lasted longer under the King than any other concubine, even gaining the favour of the Queen when she had been alive, despite what her role entailed. And she’d passed all the lessons she’d learned onto her daughter.

Myra stood back at attention, eyeing the Jedi who was still in the room, hoping the man would leave without angering the King in any way. “Thank you for your time, your grace. I hope you choose to side with the Republic. We could sorely use your planet’s resources, and would greatly compensate you for them.” Even Myra could hear the emptiness behind those words. The Jedi only half meant what he said. Everyone who came to see the King was like that. The Jedi turned with a swish of his robes, making his way to the doors, and closer to Myra. She almost let out a squeak when he stopped, turning his gaze on the small girl and squatting down next to her. His kindly smile made her bristle, “Can I have one of those?” He pointed to the cups on her tray. She nodded, unsure of his manner. No one had ever asked before, always just taken. Another smile, more genuine than any she’d ever received that wasn’t from her mother, “Thank you.”

Myra’s gaze followed the man as he left, confused at his actions. She had no time to ponder, a small hand motion from her mother forcing her back into the role she was used to. Luckily, the King had not noticed what had transpired. He sat back down in his throne, still chuckling to himself at how the two force-sensitives had prostrated themselves in front of him.

Several hours passed, Myra still standing stock still at the entrance with her small tray. Men and women came and went, asking the King for favour, or just plain begging for something. All were denied, of course. Corrus was not known for his generosity, yet somehow maintained rule over a planet where the slaves outnumbered him and his guards at least one hundred to one. Most of the slaves were too afraid to say or do anything against the King’s wishes, lest they be executed for their treason.

“GIRL!” The bellow from the other end of the room shocked Myra, the cups rattling on her tray. “Get over here. Now.”

She made her way as quickly as she possibly could, barely keeping her balance. She got all the way to the throne, managing to not spill a single drop of the drinks. She held the tray up high and bowed her head, her arms burning from having already held it up for hours. The King snatched a cup, draining it in one go, slamming it back down onto the tray, Myra swaying under the force of it. She let out a small whimper.

“Something to say, girl?” The quiet voice of the King was almost deafening to Myra.

She stuttered out a response, “N-n-n-no, your majesty.”

“Because I’m pretty sure you said something.” He rose from his throne, touring over the tiny girl in front of him, “Are you questioning my hearing?”

Myra’s eyes widened and flicked to her mother’s, the Dathomirian frozen to the spot, unsure of how to help her daughter in this situation, “N-n-n-n-no.”

He squatted down, roughly grabbing her chin and turning her head till their eyes met. “You know what happens to the slaves who disobey me?” She nodded, terrified of what she knew was about to happen.

“I don’t think she meant anything by it, my love.” Corrus’ head whipped around to stare at his concubine, her words twisting his face with rage even as her expression creased with fear.

He rose, taking several quick strides before he back-handed the woman, knocking Shuisa to the floor. “Did I say you could fucking speak, whore?” Myra’s mother clutched at her cheek where the blow had landed, dark red blood leaking through her fingers. She pulled away, a long-jagged gash marring her features where Corrus’ ring had sliced her open. She looked down at her hand, her skin turning even paler at the sight. She barely had time to react, the King’s hand wrapping around her throat and tightening till she let out a choked gasp. She was lifted off the floor, brought within inches of Corrus’ face, “I should have executed you along with that little fucking runt.”

Myra stood in shock, watching as her mother was choked in front of her. Whenever she’d seen other slaves being punished, she could deal with it. She was close with no one but her mother, so she could look away and pretend she couldn’t see it. But not this time. This time, she couldn’t tear her eyes away for a single instant. She felt something bubbling up from inside. Something powerful, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. All at once, she ignored every lesson her mother had ever taught her. Silence and invisibility went out the window in a single moment.

“STOP!” Myra’s scream echoed in the throne room several times, drawing the eyes of King, concubine and the two royal guards. Her mother gasped for air as she was tossed away from the King, sliding on the polished marble floor. She stopped several metres away, coughing and spluttering. Myra threw done her tray, shattering the glass and sending the metal cups bouncing away. “LEAVE MY MUMMY ALONE!”

If King Corrus had looked angry before, it was nothing compared to now. “What did you say?” He took thundering steps forward, Myra scurrying backwards at the same speed. “WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY TO ME YOU LITTLE BITCH?!” He stopped, staring down at the diminutive girl.

A bravery she’d never known burst forth, staring up at the King even as Shuisa begged her to stop in the background, “I said, LEAVE MY MUMMY ALONE!”

And with those final words, Myra launched herself forward, her tiny frame smashing into the King’s chest. To everyone’s great surprise, the collision sent them flying backwards, crashing to the floor. Myra recovered quickly, straddling over Corrus’ chest and punching straight down into his face. She felt a strength far beyond anything she thought was possible, a force enhancing her tiny fists. The first punch shattered his nose, blood spurting out to stain Myra’s hands and her stark white clothes. The second broke several teeth.

“Get her off me!” The King could not defend against the terror on top of him, his words coming out through a mouthful of blood.

The only two guards in the room quickly closed in on Myra, each grabbing a flailing arm before she could attempt a third strike. She writhed in their grip as she was dragged away, Corrus sitting up and spitting out a mouthful of blood, clutching at his broken face. She screamed at her captors, swinging her legs everywhere trying to get out. The same power as before surged into her, her elbows flying backwards and catching both guards in their guts. The two men went flying backwards, Myra falling onto her knees. She promptly spun, opening her mouth and hissing at them.

Myra’s hands flew forward of their own accord, nothing happening for a second. Suddenly, the two guards were thrown from their feet, their bodies catapulting across the room and slamming into the far walls either side of the entrance, more than a metre from the ground. They struggled against the Force holding them there, barely able to get their arms and legs off the hard surface at their backs. Myra took a step forward, all movement stopping as the emotions in their eyes went from rage to terror. She took one more, the guards now gasping for breath.

The final step ended it. Myra thrust her hands out and screamed, redoubling the strength she was pushing the two men into the wall with. The concrete behind them cracked under the intensity, their bones coming soon after. Their chests were too compressed to even let out their own wails of pain. Myra screamed even louder, one final push and the snaps echoed in the throne room. The guards’ necks broke, their heads at unnatural angles. The little girl responsible released her power, allowing the two bodies to fall to the ground. They fell into two piles, nearly every bone in their bodies turned to tiny shards.

The Dathomirian Zabrak sat against the wall where she’d fallen, cradling her torn face and staring at her daughter with shock and horror. The tiny girl was splattered with blood, her fists balled up and red. Shuisa couldn’t deny the tiny bit of pride she felt at her daughter’s actions and the power she’d displayed. She’d never told Myra how she’d ended up in service to the King. She’d been weak. Weakness did not serve well on Dathomir. And for her, being born with absolutely no connection to the Force was seen as the greatest shame one of the Nightsisters could possibly have. Her own mother had banished Shuisa from the planet as soon as she could fend for herself. To know she had not cursed her daughter with the same fate was a relief, even though she’d just watched the four-year-old murder two men.

Myra whirled around, not even sparing a glance at the form of her terrified mother. She only had eyes for the King, currently trying to back away even as he held his hands up in surrender to the child. “Please, Myra.” – So, he did know her name – “Stop this now. We can talk about this.” He took off his ring, holding it out to her, “Here, I’ll give you my special ring. And you won’t have to stand in the corner anymore.” Myra had never heard this tone from him before. The King was afraid. That emotion was usually reserved for the slaves and all those who came to see Corrus, not the Human himself. But it didn’t matter. She was set on her path, and she wouldn’t dare stop now. “I’ll give you anything, _please_!” He was finding it difficult to speak through the ruin Myra had already left of his nose and teeth.

With a bellow of pure rage, Myra charged, leaping on her target with as much force as she could muster. They went down in a tangle of limbs, the girl ending up on top once more. The King’s hand came up, covering her face and attempting to push her off. Myra shifted, grabbing his hand and biting down, hard. She tasted the metallic liquid as she ripped away, tearing off a chunk of flesh that she promptly spat onto the ground. With blood still dripping down her chin, she tossed the limb aside, resuming her previous position and bringing her fists to bear against Corrus’ face.

With even more strength than before, Myra unleashed her fury against her master. Her third punch cracked his right cheek bone, the fourth, his left. His eye sockets shattered next, red blooming across the white of his eyes. Amazingly, he was still conscious through all of it, feeling every painful blow from the tiny figure straddling his chest. He wasn’t even sure himself how he was still awake, but Myra knew. She made him stay awake through sheer force of will. Made him feel all the pain he’d caused her and her mother. This was revenge, plain and simple.

Myra’s blows slowed when Corrus’ face was nearly entirely covered in his own blood, every bone cracked, every tooth dislodged from his skull. He’d stopped resisting, his breathing laboured and gurgling as he tried to breathe through a shattered mouth full of blood. Myra’s arms were covered up to her elbows, her clothes stained a deep crimson. The sanguine liquid had splattered onto her face and into her hair, an almost demonic look to her.

“ _Myra…_ ” The whisper from beneath her surprised the girl, her head snapping down to stare at the King. “ _Please… stop… I’m your… fath-_ ”

Myra screamed, her tiny fist swinging into the side of Corrus’ head. With a crack, his neck broke, instantly ending his life. The girl didn’t stop the barrage, his head slamming side to side as she continued her rage - and now sorrow - filled attack.

Soon, all Myra was doing was pounding wet chunks of bone into the floor, all that was left of the ruin of Corrus’ head. Her mother cautiously approached from in front of the girl, terrified of what she might do if she scared her daughter in any way. Shuisa could see the tears streaming down Myra’s cheeks, carving pale paths through the blood of the man she’d killed. Her hand came to rest gently on Myra’s shoulder, the four-year-old’s head snapping up to stare at her mother.

“I think that’s enough, Myra.” As she remained looking at her mother, a haze seemed to lift from over her vision. She began to tremble as the reality of what she’d done properly set in. Her hands came up, completely covered in the blood of the King. She looked down, falling sideways off the Human’s body and looking between him and her mother. The Dathomirian slowly approached, wrapping the small girl in her arms, and pressing her face into her chest, hiding the gruesome scene from her daughter.

Myra responded, arms wrapping around her mother and letting out a choked sob. She cried, Shuisa smoothing her hair down with one hand, while the other rubbed soothing circles on her back. They remained that way even as Myra’s sobbing died down and she fell quiet, kneeling on the floor of the throne room.

* * *

The Sith Lord and Jedi Master kept pace with each other as they raced through the halls of the palace, heading towards the throne room. They’d both sensed a powerful wave through the Force a short time ago and were almost racing each other to see what it was. As far as they knew, they should have been the only two Force sensitive beings of any consequence on the entirety of Corrus. Nothing of this magnitude should have been here. Even more strangely, the feeling had disappeared in the last minute, not even a single bit of it left to sense. It left both of them confused and all the more interested.

The feeling hadn’t been particularly powerful, feeling extremely untrained. There were certainly more powerful beings, the two of them among those. But it was far more than just a phantom feeling that sometimes came through the Force at random times.

Both men threw open the doors of the throne room, eyes widening at the scene in front of them.

The two royal guards lay broken next to the doors, both obviously dead. King Corrus was what drew their proper attention. His body lay in a pool of blood, most likely his own, his head completely caved in and unrecognisable as a gory smear on the marble floor. One of his hands had a large chunk missing, the bone visible through the destroyed flesh. Their eyes fell to the only other still living beings within the room.

The King’s concubine sat on the floor, rocking back and forth. A bloody gash on her face was only just beginning to dry, her cheek still covered by her lifeblood. In her arms was the small girl both Jedi and Sith had taken drinks from hours earlier, covered in blood and hiccupping every few seconds. They both looked around at the devastation the room had been left in, noticing the concave sections that the two guards had obviously been pushed into. The concrete was cracked into pieces, a spidery maze of fractures. The person who had done this was nowhere to be found it seemed.

The Sith Lord summoned his lightsaber to his hand, stalking forward and casting his eyes around for any sign of the one responsible. With the King dead, they’d most likely have to fight the Republic for control of the planet, unless a puppet could be installed and give them control any way.

The Dathomirian finally noticed the two men, stopping the reassuring whispers to her daughter. Shuisa hugged the girl tighter, staring at the Sith as he came closer.

“Who did this?” The Sith hissed at the woman, furious at the complication to the Empire’s plans for the planet.

Shuisa answer without missing a beat, “He ran off. I don’t know where he’s gone.”

His face twisted with rage, “Don’t lie to me, whore.”

Myra’s eyes snapped open at the offensive language directed at her mother. She struggled out of Shuisa’s arms, rising to her feet and staring defiantly up into the yellow eyes. “DON’T TALK TO MY MUM LIKE THAT! GO AWAY!”

“Shut up little girl, before you get hurt.”

The threat did nothing to dissuade Myra. She stepped forward and yelled at the top of her lungs, “GO AWAY!” The last syllable came out as an eardrum shattering roar. Both Sith and Jedi felt that same wave through the Force, now centred around Myra. Her Force Scream hit the Dark Lord at full force in his chest, tossing him through the air. Unlike her previous three victims, he knew what to do under these circumstances, flipping over to right himself and sliding across the floor on his feet when he landed. He stared across the room at the little girl still standing there, fury burning in her snow-white eyes.

“It was you…” Both men said it at the same time, both echoing through the space of throne room. They looked at the girl in a new light, realising she was force-sensitive, but not understanding why they couldn’t at least sense her a little bit, now that she wasn’t actively using the Force. No one had the power to completely hide their presence in the Force, not even the immortal Sith Emperor. Her presence in the Force was gone as soon as it came.

Myra held up her bloodied hands in defence, trying to look threatening to the two men. The Sith Lord rolled his eyes, igniting his lightsaber in response. The red light caught Myra’s eyes but did nothing to stop her current course of action.

“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s all calm down.” The focus of the rooms shifted to the Jedi Master present, holding up his hands, one pointed at Myra and the other at the Sith. “We can talk this out.”

“You Jedi and you’re fucking talking.” He pointed his lightsaber at the other man, the hum of the blade following his movements, “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. I’m taking that girl to Korriban, and you’re going to tell your precious Jedi Council you failed and get the fuck off the Empire’s planet.”

The Jedi narrowed his eyes in response, “You have no command over me. And even if you did, I wouldn’t allow a child to step foot on Korriban. She will come to Coruscant and be trained as a Jedi. Corrus will join the Republic.”

“NO!” Myra’s rage caught their attention once more, hating them talking about her as though she wasn’t there. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” She thrust her arms out like before, sending her power thundering out towards the two Force-users. They both grunted as the waves hit them, only sliding back a few feet before counteracting Myra’s attempts at moving them. She yelled her frustrations, confused and frightened as to why her new power wasn’t working.

The Sith Lord began to march forward, holding out one hand and seeming to barely notice Myra’s Force ability. She turned both hands on him, releasing the Jedi and slowing the Sith only slightly. Her yelling became filled with fear as the red-skinned man edged ever closer, the sick enjoyment glowing in his eyes. He edged closer and began to laugh at the terror he was causing Myra. He reached out through all of the Force on him and placed his hand on the top of her head. All at once, her body went slack and she stopped, becoming invisible in the Force once more. Myra collapsed like a ragdoll, hitting the floor with a dull thud. She was unconscious, the Sith Lord having rendered her so with a simple mind trick.

He began to bend over to pick her up and take her with him, but stopped. He spun in place, bringing his blade up in defence and deflecting the green lightsaber that had been thrown at his back, returning to its user who fell straight into a fighting stance. “Attacking someone while their back is turned? Not a very Jedi thing to do. Nevertheless…” With practiced speed, he charged across the room, red and green blades slamming into each other.

Sith Lord and Jedi Master began to trade blows, the only sounds in the room the clashing of their plasma blades. Both were highly skilled in lightsaber combat, unable to land an effective blow on the other. Their lightsabers struck one another repeatedly, before slamming together in a locked position. Neither man could overpower the other, both releasing one hand from their weapons to attempt to push the other away. Their hands were quivering in the air inches from one another, growling their frustrations. They both were thrown away from each other, flipping in the air with practiced ease and propelling themselves straight back at one another as soon as they were able.

Shuisa watched for a minute till she was sure the two men were effectively distracted. She hurried forward, turning her daughter over on the ground, brushing the blood-soaked hair off of her pale features. She hurriedly collected the girl into her arms, rushing from the room through a back entrance behind the throne. She ran as quick as she could through the dark halls, having memorised them after years of serving King Corrus.

 _He’s dead… he’s really gone._ The thought passed through Shuisa’s head before she could stop it, tears springing to her eyes. She hadn’t loved the King, hell, she hadn’t even liked him. He had treated her horribly in the past, the wound on her face only the latest in a long line of injuries he’d caused the Dathomirian. But… he had taken her in when no one else had, even if it was to work as essentially a sex slave. He’d given her a roof over her head and relative comfort for more than a decade. And… he was the father of Myra. The father of the one bit of her life that only gave her happiness. And she’d never told her daughter that, the girl only learning of the fact in the last moments before she’d killed her own father. It was something Shuisa was fairly certain she’d never forgive herself for.

She was glad he was gone if she was honest. It meant she could finally leave with Myra and go somewhere nicer, give her daughter a good upbringing. Better than hers had been at least. But where? The tiny amount of credits she’d managed to save over the years would barely get them off Corrus, let alone start a life somewhere else. She reached her quarters with these thoughts running through her head, gathering up the few personal belongings she had. She almost began to change her clothes into something more robust, quickly realising she didn’t have time. If the Sith won that battle, she doubted he would leave them be. He would definitely kill her to get Myra. If the Jedi won, it might be a little nicer, but she’d still have to give up her daughter, and that wasn’t an option.

Shuisa instead pulled on a black robe over herself, stuffing her white hair into the hood, trying to make herself look as different as possible. She did the same for Myra, quickly stripping the girl of her bloody garments and replacing them with black. She collected Myra once more, running from the room and away from the throne room. She knew of several secret exits to the palace, she just had to hope neither Sith nor Jedi did.

The halls blurred together as she sprinted through the passages, her muscles starting to burn from holding up her daughter and from running for her life. She finally made it to the furthest exit, fumbling at the handle with one hand. A sound from behind her made her freeze. The buzzing hum of a lightsaber igniting.

Shuisa slowly turned around, finding the Sith Lord standing only a few metres away. “Give me the girl.” He said it through clenched teeth, the pained tone in his voice betraying him. She could see smoke coming from his dark robes and the smell of burned flesh filled her senses. One of his arms had a long, burned split in the fabric, revealing a charred red wound. The Jedi had gotten in a few hits before being ultimately defeated by the Sith it seemed.

Shuisa hugged Myra closer, backing through the door she’d managed to open, “Please, just let me go. I beg you. You can take the planet; just let Myra and I go.” Her words came out through the panic gripping her chest.

Maniac laughter spilled forth from the red-skinned man closing in on the pair, “Oh, I don’t think so. I didn’t just take a lightsaber to the fucking arm to lose now. _Give. Me. The. Girl._ ” His tone had turned far more serious, any of the little bit of joviality he had before gone.

Shuisa bolted, spinning on her heel and sprinting down the short corridor and slamming through the final door to outside the palace. The Sith gave chase, quickly gaining on her and simply raising his hand, completely stopping the Zabrak in her tracks. Shuisa struggled valiantly against the Force holding her, but was unable to resist as it turned her to face her pursuer, and tugged her slowly towards him. The Sith pushed her onto the ground in front of him, making her arms open and drop Myra to the ground. She screamed, nonsensically begging the man to let her go.

The lightsaber at his side stopped humming as the blade retracted and he hung it beneath his robes once more. He stood there, staring down at the sobbing woman and the small girl who he would take to Korriban to become Sith. “ _Please… don’t kill me_.” He narrowed his yellow eyes at Shuisa’s request. He considered breaking it right then and there. His hand rose up, closing into a fist.

Shuisa could do nothing as the fist came rushing down, striking her across the temple. She properly fell to the ground, losing her grip on her consciousness. As her vision faded, she watched the Sith Lord pick Myra up from the ground and begin to walk away. She could only stare at the bloodied face of her daughter as she was taken away from her and the black at the edges of her vision swallowed her up.


	2. A New Home

**Sith Ship, Corrus**

**20 BTC**

The Sith Lord climbed aboard his ship, placing Myra in one of the small prison cells in the back. He clamped her wrists together with manacles, enchanted by Sith magics to dampen Force powers, a precaution to prevent any mishaps now that they were in an enclosed space. The cell’s force field went back up, the gentle buzz filling the room. He looked down at the small girl, still bloodied from killing the King. Her actions were going to significantly affect the Empire’s plans for Corrus, something they’d have to act quickly on to rectify. For the moment, he just had to hope these events didn’t cause too much of a problem with the Dark Council.

He kneeled in front of the ship’s holocommunicator, sweat beading on his brow as he waited for the person at the other end to pick up. Anger at his failure was the least he could expect from the recipient of the call. He hoped his acquisition of Myra would at least dampen the fallout.

“ _Rokin. How goes the negotiations on Corrus_?”

Rokin swallowed as he bowed his head to the figure on the holo. “There have been… complications, master.”

“ _And what sort of complications would those be?_ ”

“King Corrus is dead.”

He heard the intake of breath from the man on the other end of the line. “ _That is quite a complication. Tell me._ ” Rokin could sense the rage, even through the holo, “ _What. Happened?_ ”

Rokin looked up, meeting the eyes of Lord Veradun, “The Republic sent a Jedi envoy at the same time as I arrived. I had been attempting to convince the King to call his allegiance for the Empire but… he was stubborn to say the least.” The Sith avoided his gaze once more, “I had plans to sabotage the Jedi, but was unable to before the King was killed.”

“ _So, you did not kill him. Who did?_ ” Veradun remained surprisingly calm, despite the news he was hearing.

“His daughter, my lord.”

“ _I was not aware Corrus had any children. The Queen died years ago, and did not produce an heir_.”

“The girl is not the Queen’s progeny. The King had several concubines, she is the daughter of one of them.” Rokin carefully thought about his next words, “My lord, I believe she is Force sensitive.”

“ _Oh? The Empire’s reports indicated that there are no Force sensitives on the entirety of that planet. Are you saying our intel is wrong?_ ”

“No, my lord, not exactly.” He tried to think how to explain it, “She exhibits an odd ability to hide herself in the Force. When not in use, she cannot be sensed, from what I can tell. She was able to hold both myself and the Jedi back, if only briefly. Once she stopped, she disappeared once more. If I had not been able to see her with my own eyes, I would think she was dead.”

“ _Interesting. I have not heard of an ability such as this._ ”

“May I take her to Korriban, my lord?”

He thought for a moment, yellow eyes closing, “ _Yes. We will determine the truth of your words there. Once you have taken her to Korriban, return to Corrus. We may still be able to salvage the situation._ ” Veradun paused, fixing Rokin with a hard stare, “ _Will the Jedi be a problem?_ ”

“He may be, I’ll admit. I duelled him, but only managed to wound him before he ran. I could not give chase and capture the girl at the same time. I do not believe he will be back on Corrus for some time. He is missing half an arm.”

Veradun nodded with satisfaction, “ _Good. Corrus may still be ours if we hurry._ ”

The holo ended, leaving Rokin to stand painfully back to his feet. He clutched at his arm, still injured from his fight. A small medical droid came to his side once he’d sat down in the pilot’s chair, tending to his wound. Rokin pondered the only other lifeform on board. She would have to be watched if this ability of hers panned out. She could be a valuable asset, or a dangerous adversary if she could not be controlled.

* * *

**Sith Ship, Hyperspace**

**20 BTC**

Her head hurt. A lot. The cool metal against her cheek did little to get rid of the pain. Opening her eyes sent agony lancing through her brain, quickly shutting them again. She felt weak, pushing herself into a sitting position was hard. She worked up the courage to open her eyes again, less pain this time. Her surroundings were tinted red, the buzzing force field in front of her responsible.

She looked down, finding her hands bound together with heavy metal cuffs. They were carved with foreign runes, the girl unsure of the language. She'd was only just able to read things in the language she _could_ speak, and this was a completely different alphabet. She saw that her arms were still covered in blood all the way up to her elbows. She’d almost hoped it all had been a dream, that she hadn’t killed the King. But it seemed that was not meant to be.

A thought occurred to her suddenly. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. The last hazy memory she had was of being picked up by the Dathomirian, then nothing. Where even was she? It definitely wasn’t in the palace, at least not in any section of it she’d been before. “Hello?” Her timid voice bounced off the forcefield back at her. “Mummy?” No one answered. Tears prickled at her eyes, a sniffle issuing from her. She heard a sound, heavy footsteps approaching, not ones she knew.

The door to the prison cells opened suddenly, the Sith she’d seen in the palace striding through to stand in front of her cell. “Ah. Finally awake.”

Myra was terrified. This man had been the one to shut down the only power she’d been able to defend herself with, and now she found herself his prisoner. “Where’s my mummy?” Her voice came out louder than she’d wanted, covering her mouth lest he do something to her again.

“Gone.”

The one-word answer told her nothing. “Gone where?”

“Away.”

“Oh.” Myra dared to look into his yellow eyes, finding no sympathy there. “Where am I?”

“My ship.”

She searched for a question that might help her in this situation, “Where are we going?”

“Korriban.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions for such a small thing.” Rokin was starting to get annoyed.

Myra avoided his gaze once more, mumbling to herself, “Sorry.”

“Being spineless will not serve you well on Korriban either.” He took a step closer, squatting down to her eye level, “You must know when to obey and when to refuse. Learn fast, or Korriban will chew you up and spit you out.”

Her eyes went wide, her voice coming out as a whisper, “It’s going to eat me?!”

“What? No!” Rokin seemed to remember he was speaking to a child. He thought better of his answer, “Well... not the people, anyway.” It did little to calm Myra’s fears. She pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her chained arms around them. Rokin cocked his head, considering her actions. She would definitely be one of the younger acolytes brought to Korriban to become Sith. And considering her heritage, would face even greater challenges and threats than any other one there. Being something other than full Human or full Sith was a near death sentence for young acolytes, and Myra wasn’t even full anything. A half-breed. She would need to be stronger than them all to survive. “Get up.”

Myra looked up, tightening her arms around her legs, “No.”

Rokin deactivated the force field, grabbing the young girl’s arm and roughly hauling her to her feet, “It wasn’t a request. Follow me.” Myra stood stock still, standing in the centre of the now open cell. Rokin rolled his eyes, grabbing the chain between her hands and yanking her along with it out of the prison.

She cried out, “You’re hurting me!”

“Get used to it.”

Myra’s struggling only caused Rokin to pull her along harder. She could feel the metal of the restraints cutting into her wrists, rubbing away the skin there. They finally stopped in the cockpit, Rokin lifting her easily and strapping her tightly to the chair. Her terror had turned into anger, continuing to pull at everything holding her down. “LET ME GO!” Her scream did nothing to persuade the Sith. She tried to use her power, but nothing happened. Tears streaked down Myra’s face as she screamed and wrestled with her bindings. “I WANT MY MUMMY!”

“SHUT UP!” Finally, Rokin reacted, pushing her back down into the seat with the Force, and silencing her protests, “Your mother is gone and you're never seeing her again. That is a fact. You are going to Korriban, and that is final.”

Even Myra could see the severity of his words. She stopped tugging at the straps, settling down into the seat and bowing her head. Her tiny body silently shook with sobs, trying to contain herself. Rokin settled back into the pilot seat, unconcerned with the distraught child in the chair behind him. He checked their course, punching in the necessary corrections on their way to the Sith home world.

It would be good to see his home again. Rokin had been part of the forces sent to Korriban to take it back from the Republic eight years ago. He had only been an acolyte, but he remembered the thrill of his kills in that battle. Only Republic troopers, but they were satisfying nonetheless. Their victory had been swift and crushing, forcing the Republic and the Jedi to retreat in a matter of hours, the first victory of many in the war. Hopefully they’d continue their streak of triumphs, and soon they would take Coruscant for the Empire, finally crushing the Republic once and for all.

Rokin closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for arriving on Korriban and then to immediately leave again. He wondered if he’d have time to go down to the surface. Probably not, but… maybe.

* * *

**Hanger, Space Station, Orbit Above Korriban**

**20 BTC**

The ship touched down smoothly, Rokin immediately standing from the pilot’s chair, and removing Myra’s restraints. She’d fallen asleep, beginning to protest at being disturbed from her slumber but soon realising who had woken her up and the consequences of her disobedience. She wasn’t entirely sure what they would be, but she knew they would be bad and most likely painful. Myra stood and followed the Sith meekly towards the airlock. The landing ramp descended, Rokin quickly descending with Myra at his heels.

They'd come into a relatively small hanger, only just big enough to hold the Sith’s ship. Myra’s eyes travelled around, marvelling at everything they fell on. She’d rarely left the palace on Corrus in her lifetime, and this hanger was unlike anything else. She’d been on starships before when the King had wanted to go somewhere and wanted Shuisa to accompany him, but Myra had never left the ship. She realised she’d fallen a few steps behind Rokin, hurrying to catch up, her wrist chains rattling as she ran.

“I need a shuttle to the surface for a new acolyte.” Rokin’s voice caught Myra’s attention, breaking her out of studying her surroundings.

“Right away, my lord.” The Imperial soldier he’d addressed typed rapidly into the console in front of him. He glanced down at the girl, Myra hiding behind Rokin’s robes and attempting to make herself invisible. It was hard, given that his robes were jet black and her hair was the exact opposite, snow white despite the blood still matted through parts of it. He looked back up at Rokin once he’d finished, “Docking Bay 27 has a free shuttle, my lord. Will you be going down to the surface, or will the acolyte require an escort?”

Rokin thought for a moment. It would be nice to go to the surface and obtain new clothing along with getting his wound properly looked up. But… Lord Veradun was not known for patience, or forgiveness after failures, so he decided against it. His master was angry enough with him already, he didn’t need to give the Human another reason to punish him. Best to get back to Corrus and continue with his assigned mission, “She will need an escort.”

“Understood, my lord. They will meet you at Docking Bay 27.”

Rokin nodded, moving off. He didn’t motion for Myra to follow, but she quickly did, almost tripping over her own feet in the process. The docking bays blurred together as they walked swiftly through the halls of the space station. Eventually, they came to the right one, a squad of Imperial troopers waiting for them. Myra once more hid behind Rokin’s robes, trying to avoid what she knew was coming. She didn’t exactly feel safe with the Sith, but he wasn’t as much of an unknown like these men.

“Take her to the academy, and make sure she arrives unharmed. Do I make myself clear?”

All of the troopers saluted as the lead one answered, “Of course, my lord.”

Rokin looked down at Myra briefly, the girl looking terrified back up at him. He placed a hand on her back, moving her out from behind him and towards the Imperial soldiers. He handed over the key to her shackles, turning on his heel and marching away. Myra screamed after him, “NO! I DON’T WANNA GO! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” Rokin didn’t look back, continuing till he was out of sight of them. Myra struggled with all her four-year-old might against the troopers as she was dragged into the docking bay and towards the shuttle. “LET ME GO!” The tears came thick and fast as she was shoved onto the shuttle and tied into a chair.

None of the troopers said anything as the shuttle took off and flew out into the space above Korriban. Myra continued to pull at her restraints, rattling her chains around in the process. She could feel the metal cutting into the skin of her wrists and blood issue forth from under them. But she didn’t care. She would be free if she had anything to say about it. The pain felt like it was enhancing her strength, so Myra continued with her efforts.

Eventually, one of the troopers got up from his seat, moving forward till he was squatting down in front of Myra. She stopped her thrashing, staring at him with a combination of fear and rage. He took off his helmet, smiling at her. He gently took hold of her hands, the girl flinching at the contact, “Keep moving around like that and you’ll hurt yourself.” His kindly smile only served to heighten Myra’s uneasiness. She maintained eye contact, not daring to look away lest he hurt her. “Here.”

The trooper reached up, applying bacta to her wrists with a small wrist-mounted sprayer. Myra felt the pain ebb away as her minor wounds sealed over and healed. Her strength left her, the focus the pain had given her disappearing completely. She relaxed back into the chair, the anger she’d felt giving way to the loss she’d been trying to ignore.

Her situation finally properly sunk in. Her home was gone. She’d never see Corrus again. And her mother was the same. She’d never see the only family she had left again. The days spent with the beautiful Zabrak were gone. She was alone. She cried to herself, breaking her gaze with the trooper still kneeled in front of her. He put his helmet back on, seeing the look in Myra’s eyes. There was nothing he could say or do to make Myra feel better. And nothing he could do to prepare her for Korriban either. He hoped she’d be strong enough to survive.

* * *

**Sith Academy, Korriban**

**20 BTC**

Myra followed the troopers down the ramp, keeping her eyes on her feet. She nearly ran into the trooper in front of her when he’d stopped. Her tears had dried, replaced with nothingness. She felt nothing, emptiness almost swallowing her up. She heard the Imperials move away from her, but she remained where she was even as a different sound approached her.

“Acolyte.” A soft yet forceful voice from in front of Myra caught her attention. She kept staring down, observing that this new person had stopped in front of her. The shoes of this one were not unlike that of Rokin’s. Before she even had the chance to look up of her own accord, Myra’s head was moved by the person, snapping up to look into the new person’s eyes. Myra found herself staring at a Human woman, her eyes the same yellow as Rokin’s had been. “You would do well to listen when your betters speak.”

Myra found she couldn’t move anything but her eyes, with even those difficult to move. The Human slowly tracked around her, studying Myra. She tensed up, trying to think of what this Human might do to her.

“I am Inquisitor Merrbin.” The Inquisitor studied Myra closely, maintaining her hold over Myra’s movement, “Curious. You don’t seem Force-sensitive.” She came back around in front of Myra, “Though I’m told you killed two guards with nothing but the Force and then murdered your own father.” Her eyes flicked to Myra’s blood-stained hands, “I assume that is his blood?” She thought for a moment, considering the child in front of her, “Hmmm… you might just survive here.” She turned, releasing Myra from her hold, “Come.”

Myra obeyed, following after the woman. She glanced back at the Imperial troopers, none of them even sparing her a second of their attention as they loaded back onto the shuttle and its door closed to hide them from her view. Just another in the growing list of people who had left her behind.

She followed the Inquisitor through the halls of the academy, the grey and silver of the hanger quickly giving way to black walls and floors, with the occasional splash of red here and there. Myra could tell this was not a place you would want to find yourself uninvited. Angry looking people marched past them, other terrified ones running after them. Screams echoed from somewhere deeper in the academy. Myra focused all of her attention on Merrbin’s feet, following them wherever she was leading her. They soon came to a small room, steam wafting from the one leading from it.

The Inquisitor stood in front of Myra, bending down and unlocking the shackles from around her wrists. The girl staggered on her feet, feeling her power rush back to her. She could feel it now, feel it filling her up. She could just barely sense the woman in front of her. Myra could see every person in this entire building with her power, even if it was barely there. She looked up at Merrbin, narrowing her eyes at the Inquisitor. She could try and escape now. She was no longer trapped in the prison those manacles had built.

Just as her hands rose up, Merrbin grabbed one of them, “Try anything, and you will feel more pain than you have ever felt.” Merrbin had sensed what she was thinking. Pre-empted her attempt at escape. “Escape is impossible. I’d recommend you don’t try it.” Myra’s hands lowered with her gaze. “Now, with that out of the way.” The Inquisitor walked over to the entrance to the next room. “Remove your clothes.”

Myra’s eyes widened, wrapping her arms around herself. “My clothes?” She managed to stammer out.

Merrbin sighed, “Do you really want to be stained with blood for the rest of your life?”

Myra removed her hands from around herself, looking down at them. With all her thrashing with the manacles, her sleeves were now little more than threads, displaying her arms nearly to her elbow. Barely a square inch of the skin on her arms was not covered in red. She reconsidered her answer, slowly removing her black robes till she was standing naked in front of the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor opened the next room, ushering Myra through into a private bathing room. The girl moved forward, slowly sinking into the bath in the centre. At Merrbin’s insistence, she began to scrub at the blood on her arms, while the Inquisitor worked the matted blood out of her long white hair. Soon, she was clean, her skin back to its normal paleness and her hair shining white. A quick brush through her hair removed the last tangles. She was now back to how she had been before she’d attacked the King.

Merrbin led her back out of the room, handing her new robes. These ones were also black, but far better quality than the ones she’d had before. They had a large hood attached to them as well. She hoped all of her hair would fit in it if she ever needed to pull it up. Myra marvelled at the softness of the fabric for a few moments, somehow perfectly fitting her. When would they have had time to measure her? Myra didn’t have a chance to answer that for herself, led away once more.

The Inquisitor marched away, Myra quickly following at her heels. She was taken even deeper into the Academy, passing more rooms with horrifying sounds coming from beneath the doors. Myra had never heard so much screaming before. As they progressed further, the screams gave way to almost complete silence. They entered one last hallway, stopping outside of the door at the end.

Merrbin turned back to Myra, indicating the door, “These are the acolyte quarters and your sleeping space for now.” She opened the door, leading Myra inside. They came into a central room, other smaller ones leading off of it. Merrbin went to one she knew was empty, waiting for Myra to follow. Once the girl was inside, she grabbed the door handle, preparing to shut it. “Your training starts tomorrow. Tomorrow… we find out if you are worthy to become Sith.”

The door was slammed in Myra’s face, leaving her in the dark, only a tiny light on the roof casting a dim red glow over the room. She looked around the room. A bed in the corner, adult-sized, a desk on one wall and a chair. The only furnishings the room had. There was nothing in the way of ornamentation, the walls completely bare. Myra crawled onto the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them tight.

She was alone once more.

* * *

**The Next Day**

The door was quietly opened, a girl with blond hair and green eyes poking her head in. She saw the room’s owner, still curled up on the bed, white hair making her stick out from her surroundings, even more so against her black clothing. The intruder padded quietly forward till she was standing next to the bed, looking down on its occupant.

“Hey.” She poked the sleeping girl, “Wake up.”

Myra awoke with a start, rapidly pushing herself into a sitting position and forcing herself away till her back hit the wall. She held up her hands in defence, staring at the intruder in her room. She didn’t say a word, only continuing to stare at her.

The girl didn’t seem to notice, only smiling at Myra, “You better get up. The Inquisitors don’t like it when we’re still asleep when they get here.”

Myra was unsure of this new person. It didn’t help that she’d had nightmares all night, reliving the murder of the King over and over, her mother screaming at her to stop from faraway. “Who-who-who are you?”

“I’m Lana. Lana Beniko.” She seemed to be waiting for a response, “And your name?”

“M-m-m-Myra.” She finally managed to stutter out. Myra stared at Lana. From what she could tell, this other girl genuinely meant her no ill will and was actually trying to get to know her. She couldn’t help the superstition that came with it. After all, so far, she’d been kidnapped and subsequently handed off to various people before finally being taken to a planet she knew nothing about to become ‘Sith’. Everything she’d heard about the Sith was terrifying. Conquerors and warmongers, they were the stuff of her nightmares. And now here she was about to begin her training to become one apparently.

Lana held out her hand to Myra, “Let’s go.” Myra took the offered gesture, allowing herself to be pulled off the bed and stand up beside the other girl. They were about the same height and build, the only real difference between them their hair and eye colour as well as Myra’s paler skin. She allowed herself to be led out of her room and into the common area, finding a few others sitting down and talking.

These four new one’s payed no attention to Myra and Lana, but Myra made sure to look at them. All of them seemed to be about the same age if Myra had guessed correctly, about four-years-old, the same as Myra. Maybe a year older at the most. Three boys and another girl. One of the boys was much larger than any of the rest of them, but he didn’t seem to be the one in charge. A smaller boy next to him held everyone’s attention, something about him drew Myra’s eyes. It felt wrong. Her new powers were trying to tell her something about him, but she couldn’t decipher what they meant. She had an ill feeling about him. This sort of feeling oozed off nearly every adult she’d encountered in the academy, but this was far stronger than before.

The other boys and girl were in rapt attention to the lead, hanging off his every word. The only one who seemed unaffected by it was Lana, playing with the hem of her robe. Myra decided she liked Lana, shifting to sit a bit closer to her and further away from the other four. Lana smiled at her, before returning to her robe. It was exactly the same as everyone else’s Myra noticed. They were all wearing that same black as the one she’d been given the previous night.

Suddenly, the entrance to the acolyte’s quarters slammed open, Inquisitor Merrbin marching in. All except Myra scrambled to their feet, the half-Human-half-Zabrak quickly following suit after a tug on her sleeve form Lana. The woman looked at each one of the children in turn, nodding at each. “Follow me.” The only command she gave, followed immediately by them all. The boy who had held their attention lead their way, Lana and Myra a few steps behind the other four.

They came to a small room, Merrbin closing the door behind them all. The children moved into the middle, the Inquisitor pacing in a circle around the cluster, “The words I am about to say will govern your life from this day forth. You will follow them to the letter. You will understand them. You will live by them as it is the only way to live. The only way to be free of the shackles of this miserable existence. This is the Sith Code. If you want to survive on Korriban, you will commit them to memory and understand their meaning, acting only in one single way. As Sith.

“ _Peace is a lie, there is only passion._ ” Myra felt the words shiver through the air, making themselves sink into her very soul. “ _Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me_.” Once she’d finished, Myra released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

Every word sounded right to her. As though these words had been in the very core of her being since she’d been born. They were instantly ingrained into her mind, already repeating themselves over and over. Merrbin stopped in front of her, Myra meeting her gaze confidently. A slow smile spread across the woman’s features as she saw Myra’s acceptance and understanding of the Sith Code. She nodded, the smile disappearing and continued on her way.

Myra was determined to survive here now. She finally felt like she had a place in the galaxy that wasn’t as a slave. Here she could be something. Someone. Something far greater than she ever would have been on Corrus.

Here… she would be Sith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Control

**Sith Academy, Korriban**

**20 BTC**

Myra stood patiently with the rest of the acolytes while Inquisitor Merrbin paced in front of them. She’d been here four days; four days being left to her own devices until today. She’d spent that time mostly in her room, forcing herself to repeat the Sith Code over and over constantly. She would learn every letter of it. Myra had taken Merrbin’s words on the Code far more seriously than any of the rest of the acolytes she thought, at least from the others actions, that’s how it seemed.

She’d been left alone by the other acolytes so far, apart from Lana. The other girl had sat with Myra a few times when she’d been allowed. Most times there was someone in their quarters watching them. Myra hadn’t been able to figure out why they’d been there.

All of them now stood on the red sands of Korriban, large rocks in front of each acolyte. Merrbin finally stopped moving, giving each one of them a hard stare. Only Myra and the red-skinned leader of the other four acolytes did not break the Inquisitor’s gaze. She seemed pleased with this, but it was only just barely there, a scowl otherwise etched into her features.

“Pick up your stone.” The Inquisitor finally spoke. The largest of the six acolytes, Kham, moved towards it with arms outstretched. With speed Myra had never seen from anyone, Merrbin was in front of him, a hand shoving the boy to the ground. “With the Force. I am not here to test your physical strength… or your stupidity.”

Tears welled up in the Kham’s eyes before a narrowing of the Inquisitor’s caused him to wipe them away as quickly as possible. Myra made a note to herself; ‘Don’t cry in front of the Inquisitors’.

The leader’s stone rose off the ground as he raised both arms, floating a full foot from the sand. Merrbin only nodded at his achievement. Lana managed to get hers a few inches from the floor, her whole body shaking with the effort of exerting her powers. None of the other three even managed to make their stones budge. All five of them stopped, Lana’s and the other boy’s stones dropping to the ground with a thud. All eyes turned to the final acolyte.

Myra breathed in and out slowly, searching herself for the power she’d discovered and used for the first time only a few days ago. Her pale arms pushed out in front of her, her mind forcing her strength through her limbs and stretching out beyond them. She felt her surroundings, the coarse sand beneath her. The life force of the five acolytes and Inquisitor Merrbin. Finally, she found her stone.

Her power enveloped the stone, covering every inch of its surface. With the lightest amount of effort, the rock rose smoothly, barely even disturbing the sand around it. Myra concentrated on it, attempting to keep it as stable as she could. It began to waver in the air, Myra pouring more of her Force through to keep it still. It had the opposite effect, wobbling in the air. Her frustration grew, even more power flowing through her. She could feel the sweat start to drip down her brow and form in small droplets on her back.

With a loud noise, the stone cracked, Myra’s fingers closing as she tried to keep it in one piece. She only succeeded doing the opposite, breaking the rock into even more pieces.

Merrbin watched with interest. She could feel the anger flowing through this child, making her Force powers ever stronger the more frustrated she grew. She would need to learn to control it, but it was a good start.

The rock was a metre from the ground, floating more unsteadily by the second. Abruptly, it fell, crashing into the ground. Myra looked at her arm, finding fingers wrapped around her forearm. She gazed up at Merrbin’s face, the Inquisitor looking at her with a blank expression, “That’s enough.” She let go of the girl’s arm, waving her hand and sending every acolytes’ rock flying off into the distance. There was a distant crashing as they impacted into Korriban’s surface. “You are all pathetic.” Myra’s satisfaction at what she had thought to be success was quickly snuffed out, “Such a simple task and half of you couldn’t even manage it. And those of you who did… do better. You want to be Sith? Sith do not put forward such pitiful attempts. They succeed, through any means necessary. Get back to your rooms. Now.” The acolytes turned on their heels and did as commanded, walking quickly back towards the Academy. Myra attempted to follow but found she couldn’t move her legs. When the others were finally out of sight, she was able to move, almost falling forward before catching herself. She looked up into the Inquisitor’s eyes, “Follow me.”

Myra tried her best to keep up with Merrbin’s rapid pace, having to half-run just to keep stride. She led the girl away from the Academy, following well-worn paths and passing many Sith acolytes in various modes of training. Myra avoided their gazes, anxious to see where the Inquisitor was taking her and afraid of what it might mean.

They arrived in a clearing far from the academy, several large boulders dominating the landscape. Merrbin drew her lightsaber from beneath her robes, igniting the crimson plasma blade. Myra recoiled a step away, but the weapon was not aimed at her. With a flick of the Inquisitor’s wrist, the blade hummed through the air, carving through the boulders and separating them into smaller pieces. It slammed back into Merrbin’s palm and vanished beneath her robes just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Pick one of them up.” Myra swallowed, taking a few steps closer to one of the smaller pieces of stone. She reached out with the Force, wrapping her power around the rock once more. It rose into the air smoothly, but just as before, began to wobble and crack apart as Myra tried to keep it steady. “Stop.” The chunks of broken rock fell back to the sand. The Inquisitor could feel the shame radiating off of the girl. She could feel the self-hatred writhing beneath the surface. They would serve her well if she could learn to harness them. “Concentrate. Feel your anger. Let your pain drive you. Let them hone your senses. Make them serve you. Again.”

Myra tried to put what the Inquisitor had said into practice, but her next attempt ended the same way. “I can’t.”

Merrbin began to pace around Myra, the acolyte keeping her eyes downcast. “There is no place for acolytes who ‘can’t’ on Korriban. You have power, you’ve already shown that. The murder of your father is proof enough.” She crouched down in front of the girl, seizing Myra’s chin and roughly forcing the girl to meet her gaze, “But power without control is nothing. You will kill yourself trying to use it.” She rose back to her feet, Myra following her gaze, “You will return here every day until you have mastered your control to my satisfaction. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.”

“Back to the Academy.” Inquisitor Merrbin watched Myra scurry off into the distance. She’d never tell the girl, but so far, she was more advanced than her peers. Her ability to call the Force forward at such a young age and with the amount of dexterity she’d displayed, lacking as it was, was astounding. Normally, the acolytes had to go through several months of rigorous training before they even began to consider teaching them how to control the Force and compel it to serve them. Myra had surged ahead of her peers, at least for now. It would remain to be seen if she continued to hold her lead over them.

* * *

**Sith Academy, Korriban**

**19 BTC**

Myra sat cross-legged on the red sand with the other acolytes. All had stones floating in front of them, holding steady a metre off the ground. Only Myra, Lana and Rhysio were able to do it without any physical movements. While the other two had only recently became adept at this skill, Myra had been able to do it for months. They could still only do it with relatively small objects, but Myra had assured herself larger ones would prove possible as her strength and age grew.

She’d now been at the Academy for just over a year, training every day to become Sith. It had taken her three months to master control of her Force powers to the extent that Merrbin required her to, but it was fairly obvious this was still a far cry from what a fully-trained Sith was able to do.

In the third month, Lana and Rhysio had joined in her daily treks to the spot she’d been told to visit. Even after Myra had been told she was ready to move ahead, Merrbin had prevented her from doing so, insisting that she needed to wait. It had taken another two before all the acolytes were making the journey every single day. Myra had ignored them all except for Lana the entire time. The jealousy in their eyes was obvious at her being singled out for this first, being essentially told she was special and they weren’t.

“Half-breed! Your rock is wobbling!” Rhysio called out to Myra, his yellow eyes focused on his own as it began to do the very thing he was accusing Myra’s of doing.

She glanced over, watching as beads of sweat began to roll down his red forehead as he concentrated on keeping it afloat. They’d been at this for over an hour, and even with Myra’s control over it, she was beginning to feel the strain. Unlike Rhysio, she’d learned to deal with distractions and maintain her concentration. After doing it for three months on her own, she’d spent the other nine learning to do it with any sort of interruption, something Rhysio had not even attempted to try it seemed. She ignored his taunt with her words, but closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, wrapping it around his rock, searching for the weakness in the mineral. She smiled to herself, coiling it through the crack she’d found. She squeezed.

Rhysio’s rock abruptly exploded in a shower of stone, raining down on his head. Myra had put a little too much power through, but it was very satisfying to hear his sudden anger. He leapt to his feet, instantly turning on her and charging at her form.

The two of them went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling several metres, both trying to gain the upper hand. Rhysio won the physical battle, landing on top and trying to get his hands around her throat. Myra was having none of that, rolling away and throwing him off of her. They both came to their feet, “YOU BROKE MY ROCK!”

All the other acolytes looked between the two, none of them even trying to stop this fight. They’d all abandoned their own rocks to watch.

“You lost control of it.” Myra’s voice was calm, belying the satisfaction she felt for getting this kind of reaction out of him. She let it show through a little, sticking her tongue out at him.

“RAHHH!” One of the stones rose from the ground, Rhysio throwing his whole Force ability behind it and sending it hurtling towards the small girl.

Myra reacted without thinking, hands flying up and pushing back. The rock froze between them, quivering in the air. They both took a step forward, trying to overpower the other to no avail. They’d fought before, but using their Force powers had never come into it. It had always just been fists and feet. Myra hadn’t realised that Rhysio was actually as powerful as she was.

Inquisitor Merrbin had seen the confrontation, and began to run toward the group of children to stop it. The very young acolytes killing each other would cause problems for her, problems that would almost certainly lead to her death. They had so few acolytes coming through the ranks, they couldn’t have such young ones dying on Korriban. And aside from that, killing another acolyte was forbidden, so no matter who won this battle, the other would be executed for breaking the academy’s rules.

However, the woman stopped short when Myra had managed to completely stop the rock flying at her. She was just out of the girl’s line of sight, and watching with great interest. Stopping an object in full motion at such a short range was an impressive feat. After the last year, she had been convinced Myra had lost her lead over her peers, but now… Perhaps not.

Merrbin observed as both acolytes pushed against the other, eyes flicking between them before focusing back on Myra. Or more specifically, her eyes. She swore she could see a flicker of yellow in the snow-white of her irises. She could sense the anger in the girl, most likely at being shown she wasn’t the most powerful of her peers. She was drawing on the dark-side in an attempt to overpower Rhysio, but for the moment, it was a rudimentary power boost at best. The power of the dark-side was beginning to take root in all of the acolytes, but up until now, none had shown any outward signs of it. Rhysio had naturally yellow eyes from being a pureblood Sith, but even his did not show the influence of the dark-side.

“YOU HALF-BREED! YOU’RE WEAK!”

Myra grit her teeth at the insult, pushing back even harder, moving the rock a little closer to her adversary. “I’M STRONGER THAN YOU!” Another step and it came within a foot of Rhysio’s outstretched hands.

The Inquisitor moved the last bit of distance between her and the two fighting children. Myra’s eyes had begun to turn yellow, the edge of her irises now solid in dark-side corruption. Merrbin reached out a hand, abruptly crushing the rock between them into dust. Both children stumbled forward, falling face first into the sand at their feet. When Myra met the Inquisitor’s gaze, the yellow was gone. She was once more invisible in the Force.

“What is the number one rule of this Academy?”

Merrbin’s enraged words washed over the group of acolytes, the children retreating from the woman except for Myra and Rhysio. Myra swallowed, answering the question, “Don’t attack other acolytes.”

“And what were you two doing?”

“Attacking Rhysio.” Myra mumbled barely in audible range.

“Attacking the half-breed.” Rhysio gave his response a little louder.

The Inquisitor narrowed her eyes, approaching the boy slowly. As soon as he met her gaze, Merrbin lashed out, the back of her hand striking Rhysio across the face and sending him spinning to the ground. He looked back up with tears in his eyes as Merrbin bent down and glared into his eyes, “That half-breed is more Sith than you are at the moment. Being pureblood won’t help if you don’t have the _power_ or the _will_ to back it up. Start fights again, and we’ll see what the Dark Council thinks of a disobedient acolyte.”

Myra watched as a purple bruise was already beginning to spread across Rhysio’s cheek. She knew the boy wanted to protest that she had started the fight, but doubted he’d say anything more. He would definitely try to get back at her for this though. A small smirk upturned her lips as Rhysio met her eyes. She saw a flash of rage in his, thrilled that she was the one to put it there.

“And you.” Myra quickly let the smirk fall, looking down at her feet as the Inquisitor addressed her. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy.” Myra squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the strike she knew was coming.

None came. Her eyes opened, connecting with Merrbin’s. The Inquisitor raised a hand, pointing her palm directly at Myra’s face. At first nothing happened. Then, the worst pain she’d ever felt gripped her mind, Myra instantly collapsing and clutching at her head. She screamed, writhing in agony on the ground. She felt Merrbin’s power coursing through her veins, setting every nerve aflame.

As quick as it had come, it stopped, leaving Myra a quivering mess on the ground. She could barely form words as she struggled to her hands and knees, “I’m sorry, Inquisitor. It won’t happen again.”

Merrbin rolled her eyes at the promise that she knew would be broken within a week. “Lana. Take Myra back to her quarters. Kham take Rhysio. The rest of you… get out of my sight.”

Myra attempted to rise to her feet, only to collapse onto her backside. She only just noticed that Rhysio was struggling as well. In her own agony, she hadn’t noticed that the boy had also been subjected to the same punishment as her.

Lana came to Myra's side, kneeling down beside her. “Are you ok?”

Myra looked up into the other girl's eyes, the concern in them not exactly Sith-like. She'd learned that Lana was different from the other acolytes, even if that main difference was that she didn’t outright hate Myra. “No. _He's_ still here.” She felt her anger surge, fanning the flames of her emotions, just like Merrbin had taught her, “One day... I'll make sure he’s not.”

Lana nodded, knowing that Myra meant every single word, and in all likelihood, she would succeed in her goal. She took Myra's arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and helping the Human-Zabrak to stand to her feet. Myra shook even with most of her weight supported by Lana, every muscle feeling as though she'd torn them apart hundreds of times over, “And I’ll be there to help you when that day comes.” Myra looked up in surprise at Lana's grinning face, “Promise.”

Myra grinned back, excited at the prospect of eventually taking down Rhysio with Lana. There was a flash of yellow in her eyes as she looked up into Lana's, “Together.”

Lana and Myra waited until Rhysio, Kham and the rest of the acolytes had disappeared into the Academy before beginning to move themselves. It was slow going, Myra still unable to put most of her weight on her legs. She wondered how long this disability would last, not relishing the idea that it was even semi-permanent. The long ramp towards the Academy’s main entrance proved an arduous journey, both of the girls breathing hard as they came to the top.

Sith around them spared not even a little attention their way, going about their own business. It was only when they’d passed through the entry hall and into the Academy’s halls proper that any notice came their way. Lana led Myra past two men, nearly running into them with how much of Myra’s weight she was carrying.

“Acolytes.” A deep voice forced them both to stop, turning to face the one addressing them. A huge, bald and pale Human approached, red and yellow eyes staring down at them. His body was clad in heavy armour, a lightsaber hanging from his belt. It looked oversized to both girls, but this man’s sheer size must have warranted the larger blade. Myra felt like she should recognise this one, but could not place him. “Where are you going?”

Lana answered for both of them, “Inquisitor Merrbin ordered us back to our quarters.”

This man didn’t pay any attention to Lana, eyes fixed on the Human-Zabrak she was supporting. “You. Name, now.”

“Myra, my lord.” She struggled to get the words out. Somehow the residual pain from Merrbin’s punishment was even worse than before.

The man turned to the one he’d been talking to, “Your little experiment has been a success so far it would seem Rokin.”

Myra’s head jerked up at the mention of that name. The Sith himself stepped out from behind the other fully, locking eyes with Myra. “So, it would seem, Lord Veradun.”

Myra could feel her rage burning just beneath the surface at the man in front of her. Even though she was now glad she’d been brought to Korriban, the feelings of abandonment for her one-time guardian had not displaced themselves. She narrowed her eyes at the Sith, clenching one fist beneath her robes. If she wasn’t currently in so much pain, she may have attacked him right then and there. As it were, she simply held his gaze with as much rage as she could muster.

Veradun noticed the anger radiating from the girl, but said nothing of it. It would make the girl stronger in the dark side, as long as she channelled it the right way. He’d never met Myra since that day Rokin had revealed she’d been the one to murder King Corrus more than a year before. He had never experienced the conundrum that was the Human-Zabrak, her complete invisibility within the Force. An idea formed in his mind for how she could be used by the Sith, or more specifically, by him. She would need to grow up first to be properly effective, but it was an interesting idea nonetheless.

“I’ll be watching you closely, Myra.” Lord Veradun’s words almost sounded like a threat to Myra, her eyes finally breaking Rokin’s gaze to catch the other man’s. She knew she probably shouldn’t be holding his gaze with such intensity, but she was too worked up from both the fight with Rhysio and seeing Rokin again. The man narrowed his own eyes for a moment before nodding, turning on his heel and marching away.

Rokin stayed a moment longer, watching Myra carefully, the girl staring right back. Without another word, he hurried after his master.

Myra huffed out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. She tried to contain her anger to no avail, building with each passing second. She began to turn back to the direction of the acolyte quarters, Lana coming with her without saying a word.

Only when they’d passed into the main room of the acolyte’s quarters did Lana break the silence, “Did you know them?”

Myra nodded, “Rokin was the one who brought me here. I didn’t know the other one.”

“He knew you.”

Lana lowered Myra down onto her bed, the white-haired girl almost instantly falling backwards onto it. “I think he’s Rokin’s master.”

Lana laid down beside the other girl, staring up at the ceiling, “Why do you think he said he’d be watching you?”

“No idea.” Myra thought about it for a moment, “Whatever it is, I’ll find out. I have a bad feeling about him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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